The man stands, twirling his moustache with a huge smile on his face.
???: Good evening ladies, gentlemen, children of all ages and of course the knuckle dragging keyboard warriors of the Internet wrestling community
He blows a kiss before looking at a clipboard.
???: My name is Daryl Bradley, of course it was spoiled by the incompetent announcers.
He smiles.
Bradley: And I am the RUSH TV network representative that has been assigned to ensure Turmoil does not nose dive into oblivion like former OCW champion and hall of shamers, Leonheart and Aries.
The crowd boo in response.
Bradley: Oh boo yourselves... How about I fire Smythe?
The crowd cheer wildly and Bradley licks a pencil, making a note on his clipboard.
Bradley: Schedhule more Smythe segments. Check. But on a serious note, we have given some serious though on the matter and have decided to bring you even more Ron Portman! He is, after all, just like all of you... Smelly, ugly and filled with no life prospects.
A very vulgar chant about Bradley starts and he wags a finger.
Bradley: No, no, no. We shan't be having any of that! Silence, desist and prepare for my magnificent announcement! That means shut up for the dullards in attendance. Quite a large group within wrestling audiences apparently...
Bradley looks to his clipboard.
Bradley: It is with great pleasure and pride to announce that, thanks to a debonair extraordinaire, Turmoil shall be having its very own championship title! Yaaaaay!
Bradley claps sarcastically with absolutely no enthusiasm what so ever.
Bradley: I mean, personally, I feel like it's a gross mismanagement of our budget, but what the hey, it was requested. Tonight there shall be two matches two determine two competitors who will advance to the next stage of our testing period. They are Tank Williams versus Jackson Montgomery, B-17 versus Kassidy Hayes and of course Smythe Da Wonder versus His Ego, which has been deemed a no contest. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of the show... I would let you know snacks are available in the foyer but I can see you already know. Toodles!
Odessa Ebony grabs a microphone from a nearby stage hand. There isn't much of a reaction from the Turmoil crowd as many of the fans don't remember the self proclaimed "Smartest Wrestler In The World". That is about to change as she addresses OCW for the first time in nearly 2 years.
Odessa: I am Odessa Harriet Ebony and I am the Smartest Wrestler Alive Today.
A rain of jeers shower the superbly dressed Yale and Havard graduate.
Odessa: Unfortunately that's not saying much considering the combined intellectual aptitude of the current OCW roster can be equated to that of a dried pastry.
A majority of the crowd have no clue what was just said but they boo her anyway.
Odessa: Yes yes, you hate what you can not comprehend. Challenging as it might be for most of you absorb the information I'm about to present to you, I will continue nonetheless.
Odessa: The Bombshell Division is Dead!
Die hard OCW fans are the type to pack the seats of Riot and Turmoil, those same fans are also die hard Bombshell fans. They actually start throwing objects into the ring. None connect with Odessa as she patiently waits to proceed.
Odessa: Not by my hand, the Bombshells screwed the Bombshells...I am here to cleanse their mess and bring women's wrestling back to the forefront of OCW. Without the raunchy theactrics, excluding the masculine jawlines and socialpathic tendencies.
Odessa: Lindsay Rothschild, Esq. has not given up on her mission, as I have not given up on helping her with that mission. Tonight we bury the Bombshells and bring forth....
She makes a dramatic pause with absolutely zero respect from the audience.
Odessa: Maidens of the Mat!
She extends her hands towards the ramp and a group of new women wrestlers now stand. Karina Johansson, Rox Rose, Taylor Lassiter, Jenny Lynn to name a few get a decent reaction from the Turmoil crowd. Odessa Ebony smiles and makes her way towards the new Maidens of the Mat.
Odessa: Tonight you will see the first match between Rox Rose and Karina Johansson if that very ring. Your Welcome.
"MOM" chants start for the first time as the camera fades to commercial break.
This is a pre-recorded video that took place earlier in the day.
The camera pans to OCW's newest member Matt Sheldon who is outside the Turmoil building. It's a nice sunny day and Matt Sheldon is just sat on the bench using his camera phone to do up his hair for tonight. It's just a normal day for Matt Sheldon that is until a pigeon decides to relieve himself in the air, a big and steamy spray of poop lands directly on Matt.
Matt Sheldon: "Disgusting! Rats with wings, I hate them!"
The poop is dripping down Matts hair. Matt puts his phone away and makes his way towards the Turmoil building. Just as he is about to start to walking up the steps, Stacy Clark from out of nowhere comes walking by with her cameraman.
Stacy Clark: "Hey Matt do you mind if we get a few words from yourself?"
Matt can't believe this.
Matt Sheldon: "Do you really think this is a good time?"
The poop is still dripping down Matt's hair. Stacy chuckles.
Stacy Clark: "It's good luck that Matt."
Matt Sheldon: "Luck, do you think I need luck Barbie? What I need is a shower, five of them to get rid of this stench. What vile creatures."
Stacy Clark: "All I and the people would like to know is that it has been nearly 8 years since you were last here in OCW as Matt Spears. What made you come back after all this time?"
Just then, Matt Sheldons opponent for tonight, Sean Strider walks by. He stops for a minute to look at Matt and then laughs at him. Sean Strider leaves and makes his way into the building, Stacy is still waiting on a reply from Matt who is not very impressed. Matt scurries off embarrassed.
The camera pans out.
The camera cuts to Stacy Clark who is standing backstage with Jimmy Henry.
Stacy: Hi Jimmy, welcome to Turmoil.
Jimmy: Hi Stacy, thanks. I'm very glad to have the opportunity to be here.
Stacy: Commiserations on your loss at the Riot vs Turmoil supershow last week. It was unfortunate that you got lost on your way to the arena, and ended up fighting Sid Harrison instead of Matt Sheldon.
Jimmy: Yes, Sid is a big boy, who proved to be just too strong for me.
Stacy: What did you make of the criticism of your appearance?
Jimmy: There was criticism?
Jimmy looks surprised.
Stacy: Yeah. Some people were saying you got "buried on your debut".
Jimmy: Oh...?
Stacy: Others said you didn't look like OCW material, and instead you looked like you "fell of the indies".
Jimmy: Right, I see...
Stacy: One guy even said your kilt & knee pads were an "eyesore"
Jimmy: Well, that's a bit harsh...
Stacy, sensing Jimmy is upset, changes the subject.
Stacy: Speaking of your kilt, is it true that the boss himself, Our Hero, borrowed it last week for his fight against Parker?
Jimmy: Yeah his assistant was backstage looking for help, apparently there'd been some sort of wardrobe malfunction. When I heard he was fighting a guy from Manchester, England I agreed immediately.
Stacy: Why's that?
Jimmy: Because, Stacy, if there's one thing more liberating than wearing a kilt, it's beating up an Englishman whilst wearing a kilt!
Jimmy smiles proudly as he hears a slight cheer from some of the fans at ringside who approve.
Stacy: That might come across as a bit xenophobic, aren't you worried you might upset one of the English wrestlers on the Turmoil roster?
Jimmy: Like who?
Jimmy smiles and walks off camera.
The fiery red head known as Rox Rose has still not cooled down after her loss to Karina Johansson earlier in the night. Still wearing her wrestling gear she sits on a dented folding chair in the middle of the weight room.
Rox Rose: I had her, I had her...I freaking had her!
She gets up like a bolt of red lightning and thrust kicks the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling. She continues to kick the bag repeatedly screaming at the top of her lungs until she's out of breath.
Rox Rose: I'll show Odessa....I'll show this Lindsay chick...I'll the other Maidens...I'll show everyone in this damn company who the Queen of Kick is...
With a swift and beautifully executed roundhouse kick to the heavy bag it snaps off it's chain and into the adjacent wall. The camera fades on the punctured bag leaks sand onto the floor.
As the camera pans around the locker room, B-17 and Jackson Montgomery come into focus. Both are tipping back Budweiser's while sitting at a card table. They appear to be in the middle of a hand.
B-17: The bet is $25. And stop looking at your cards, they won't change.
Jackson, wearing his aviator sunglasses, stares down at his hand. He pulls his glasses down his nose a bit a looks over the top of them before throwing his cards to the middle of the table. He then grabs his beer and takes a big swig before placing it on top of the deck of cards.
Jackson Montgomery: You sure you’re not cheating? How the hell do I get shit hands every time?!
B-17: The subtle art of bluffing too much for you? (Takes a swig of his beer). Sure you're not just rattled about tonight? (B-17 leans back in his chair with a cocky smile).
Jackson pushes his glasses back up and takes his beer off the cards, pushing towards B-17.
Jackson Montgomery: Rattled? What do I have to be rattled about? I’m on a hell of a winning streak and, lucky me, I get a rookie in his first match. I don’t get rattled, I rattle.
“I rattle?” Jackson thought. Maybe B won’t notice…
B-17: Yeah, I can hear you rattling from over here...In theory, if you beat this rookie tonight...you get to face me…. (B-17 picks up the deck and starts shuffling).
Jackson Montgomery: Well bud, it won’t be the first and it damn sure won’t be the last. We will tear the house down as usual.
Jackson holds his half empty beer bottle up as to ask for a cheers.
B-17: Well this awkward bro moment wouldn't be complete without a bottle tap (Raises bottle, but before he can move it towards Jackson, Kassidy Hayes enter the room).
Kassidy: Sitting back here like the common riffraff you are, poisoning yourselves like the feeble-minded Imbeciles you both are. Jackson you are best to stay off my radar but you B, tonight I right the wrong that happened; Tonight I put you down.
Montgomery rises from his chair, flexing his muscles as he stares imposingly at Hayes. B-17 remains in his chair. He takes a drink before talking.
B-17: Listen here, Twilight. You just walked into the locker room of a man who beat you last time. You also disturbed the drinking of Montgomery, who, in figurative terms, is not playing with a full deck...literally too (B-17 shows the Ace up his sleeve, Jackson glares). So who is the imbecile here?
Before Hayes can respond the lights in the locker room flicker. All three men glance at each other before the lights go completely off.
B-17: What th-------
A loud thud is heard before before B-17 shouts in pain. Loud crashes mixed with shouts echo off the walls. Montgomery is heard swearing before going silent after a sickening crack. A moment of silence...then a creaking noise followed by a heavy smash of wood on concrete.
The lights begin to flicker back to life. A dim glow exposes a grim scene. Hayes is sitting against the wall, his nose bloody. Jackson is laying in the carnage of the former table, he tries to sit up but gives in and remains flat on his back. B-17 attempts to crawl out from underneath the wooden lockers that the attackers tried to bury him under. But, he fails to pull himself from the rubble before blacking out….
The theme for the newly formed Krutches, Krosses, Kaskets blasts throught the arena as the camera pans out way to the top of the rafters where a section of the arena is blocked off. As the camera zooms in there is an entire party area sectioned off with a DJ and a bar at the top of the arena. As the camera zooms all the way in it comes to an area with 3 lazy boy seats where the 3 members of Krutches, Krosses, Kaskets are all sitting with microphones already in hand.
Around them is a bunch of Smythe D. Wonder faithful fans cheering on the Turmoil show behind a guard rail. Obviously alcohol is flowing from the bar and the fans are the rowdiest and most fun in the area. It is also the only adult only section in the arena which also has it's perks.
The camera finally zooms all the way in as they start to talk and the Pusha-T theme for the KKK dies down
Arnaud: This is what greatness looks like. From now on we have secured our own section in every arena for our true fans to watch as we take OCW back to the glory days of big TV contracts and endorsement deals. Now for the fans that want to sit with us.
A huge explosion from the fans in the sectioned off area as they shout and scream into the camera
Arnaud: When you buy your tickets for OCW events you have to say that you want to sit in the Field. They will know what you're talking about and for twice the price you're experience will be twice as nice.
The camera flips over to Blue Diamond quickly, who looks at Arnaud in disgust.
Blue: Seriously, you guys know that's just as offensive as the KKK thing right?
Smythe looks at Arnaud then at Blue
Smythe: I have no idea what she's talking about.
Smythe looks back at the camera
These endearing fans that join us will all get these collectors edition shirts that are going on sale in the OCW store tomorrow. You will be a part of the Lynch Mobb!!!
the camera again pans over to Blue Diamond who just nods her head and puts her hand to her forehead.
Arnaud: You want to be entertained. We will entertain you since no one else here thinks it's necessary. If you think the Field is exciting and you want to be in the Lynch Mob the next time OCW comes to a city near you. Wait until you see what Krutches, Krosses, Kaskets do in the ring to anyone standing on the other side when that bell rings.
Smythe: Blue I told you the missing link was this kid. Tell me there's anyone that can stop this team. Krutches, Krosses Kaskets.
Arnaud: Krutches, Krosses, Kaskets.
Blue: All we see is victims.
The camera pans out as the newly named Lynch Mob once again starts shouting and pointing into the camera showing off their new shirts and a few reckless fans even chanting KKK as the scene fades.
Seb Abbott walks up the ramp and goes backstage. Jimmy is helped to his feet by some OCW staff. He looks in a bad way as they assist him up the ramp to get some medical help backstage.
The gorilla position is presently populated by stage hands, one in particular, an attractive blonde woman is rolling up cabling keeping to herself. Suddenly, she wrinkles up her face, as if something disgusting has been placed directly below her nose.
Stage Hand: What is that horrible smell?!
At that, a loud belch is heard provoking her to look around, shaking her head as she tries to detect its source. When she looks back the curtain is swaying, someone having decided to make their entrance, but with the lack of music she shrugs it off, assuming it's no one important.
Onto the stage walks hall of famer, Aries, but not as we know him. Dressed in knee length khaki's, a wifebeater that looks like it has this mornings cereal still attached to it and a glorious sock and sandals combo. He begins his way down the ramp and pauses, appearing to be breathing disturbingly heavily before rolling into the ring with all the grace and finese of a beached whale. Aries reaches up for the rope once, twice, thrice, missing each time.
Aries: God damn it!
Finally, the former world heavyweight champion forces himself over onto his side and performs a half push up, half struggle to continue existing to get to his feel, he calls for a microphone, forehead absolutely glazed with sweat. Whilst waiting, he picks at his ear with a forefinger before mopping his brow with his wifebeater, leaving a waxy stain in the process.
Aries: Good evening Manhattan!
The confused crowd respond to the cheap pop favourably.
Aries: I haven't heard a reaction like that since the last time I was doing body shots with your wives!
The crowd very quickly turn, booing and beginning to make fun of Aries' highly apparent weight gain.
Aries: Woah! Woah! Woah! Make like a good stew and simmer down! This...
Aries flexes his bingo wings.
Aries: This!
He begins to turn red from physical exhertion.
Aries: This is free flowing mass! NOT FAT!
Aries begins to wheeze, looking almost as if he might be heading towards the light. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a roast beef sandwich which he tears into in mere seconds, prompting even more disgust from the audience.
Aries: If you don't show me the respect...
The crowd begin to chant "Flabries" over and over.
Aries: If you do not show me the respect I deserve... I will leave!
The crowd respond with a heartfelt redition of 'nanana, hey hey hey, goodbye.' Aries hurls the remains of his sandwhich onto the ramp in fury and departs from the ring, halfway up the stage he stops, and looks back, a torn expression sets in across the hall of famers face. A decision is made and he scuttles into the ring on his hands and knees, scooping up the remains of sandwich, staring at it like a fallen lover. He rolls out of the ring, cradling it in his arms only to shovel the left overs into his gaping maw and like that, Aries is gone, leaving the faint aroma of stale cheeseburgers in his wake.
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